


I'd Spend Forever With You

by Pemdas_24



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Basically a fic where Harry & Louis are soulmates, F/M, I'm Bad At Titles, Louis still loves Eleanor, Louis' POV, No Eleanor bashing, People don't understand, So pretty much how they normally act, Story focuses on Larry Stylinson (as a confusingly romantic bromance), The boys are still in 1D, and probably tagging too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-19
Updated: 2014-09-26
Packaged: 2018-02-13 20:34:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 21,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2164284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pemdas_24/pseuds/Pemdas_24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It wasn't the same thing. </p><p>Losing Eleanor would <em>hurt</em> so much. I was sure I'd be horribly depressed for ages, but I also knew I could deal with it if I had to. I could still imagine myself having a life without Eleanor, however miserable that imagined life might be for a long time. But if I were to lose Harry...I wouldn't be living at all. The best I could hope for was existence. </p><p>Without Eleanor, I would have a miserable future.<br/>But without Harry, I would have no future at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Waking up to you

"Louis."

I woke up in the middle of the night to the sound of my name and a kiss on my cheek, but I refused to open my eyes. It was too early in the damn morning. But then she cuddled into my side and stroked her hand down my chest. "I know you're up Louis." The little devil nipped at my neck in a way that guaranteed there'd be a mark there later. I couldn't help the moan that left my lips and I opened my eyes to her smug little smirk. My arm tightened around her middle to pull her closer to me until we were chest to chest and hips to hips. She giggled when I dropped a lazy kiss to her temple.

"Go back to sleep, love. Unless you've been meaning to wake me up for another go at two in the morning." I laughed when she slapped me in the chest and rolled her eyes, but I knew she wasn't annoyed with me if she had that cute smile on her face. 

"Louis, I have to get up. I have somewhere to be today." 

I pulled back just a bit to look into her big brown eyes. 

"Where the hell do you have to be at two in the morning?" 

"It's actually four a.m. love. I have a meeting at eight and I still have to go home to get ready. You know, to eat breakfast, get dressed...and especially have a shower?" 

Oh yeah. I huffed like a child into her neck when I realized she would have to get out of our comfortable embrace in bed. She pulled back at my mumbling.

"Sorry, what was that?"

"I said, I hate to admit it, but a shower is probably a good idea considering what we were up to earlier." She laughed before pushing me onto my back and straddling my waist in nothing but the t-shirt and shorts she stole from me last night. I wasn't going to complain, even in the near darkness she was such a beautiful sight. We met in the middle as she leaned down for a heated kiss, one hand on my chest, the other gripping the hair by the nape of my neck. She pulled back far too soon and my hands grabbed at her hips in a futile effort to get her to stay. Her tiny smile and regretful eyes said it all as she leaned in to give me one more peck. I sighed in frustration. We hadn't been able to spend much time together lately and it was starting to get to the both of us. 

"I love you. I'll call you later, okay?" She dropped one last kiss on my cheek before repeating my earlier words back to me in a whisper. "Go back to sleep, love." Before I knew it, she had grabbed her things and left. 

Seconds later, I was out like a light. 

 

______________________________________________________________________________

 

The second time I woke up, I was groaning to the sound of my alarm clock and the stupid light through the bloody window. It was about the millionth time I considered investing in some better curtains, but I knew I was too lazy to be bothered. 

The first move to get out of bed was always the hardest and it took me a minute to get out from under the covers. I was halfway through my morning routine in the bathroom when I heard a heavy thunk from somewhere down the hall. I raced to the other room only to find a groaning mess of sheets on the floor. I snickered at the sight. 

"Fell out of bed again, Hazza?" 

My smirk grew as grumbling came from the pile on the floor. A curly head of hair became visible and intense green eyes poked out just to glare at me. Harry obviously still couldn't be bothered to get up. He just curled into the floor. 

"Time to get up, mate." 

Silence. I crossed my arms and grinned.

"Okay, but if you don't get up, I'll be forced to make breakfast by myself. Alone. Solo. Without supervision. You know, like last time." 

I wasn't even able to take one step toward the kitchen before Hazza shot up like a rocket. His reaction was comical even if it was from a comment at my expense. I knew better than to keep my gaze on my flatmate as he hurriedly got up and threw his sheets back onto his bed. Harry liked to sleep naked and though I'd seen him that way a hundred times around the house, I'd rather avoid that when I could. 

I turned to his dresser, looking through the drawers for a clean pair of boxers. Harry groaned somewhere behind me, probably as he rubbed at his face to wake himself up. An annoying tingle made its way down my spine as it always did whenever I heard his already deep and raspy voice turned especially husky from sleep. 

"Never again. I'm never letting you cook alone again." 

I rolled my eyes as I blindly threw a pair of boxers in his general direction and closed the drawers. "Tad overdramatic there, don't you think?"

"It was starting to smoke in there, Lou." 

There was the light snap of elastic as Harry pulled on his underwear. The coast was clear. I sighed and turned to face him with a smile. "So I take it you're going to make breakfast again?" He gave me a noncommittal grunt as he headed to his bathroom. That's all I needed. I cheekily yelled my thanks after him and made a quick getaway back to my own room. 

Suffice to say, breakfast was amazing and I had nothing to do with it.


	2. Hey sunshine

I was bored out of my mind. 

The boys and I had been packed up into our tour bus late last night on its way to the next performance stadium. I don't know why, but I had woken up early today. It sucked because I wasn't hungry enough to be bothered with getting up for food or tired enough to go back to sleep. So I lied awake in my bunk wondering what I should do when the sun wasn't even up yet. 

The plan for a mischievous prank was beginning to take shape in my mind when the sky started to lighten outside. I hadn't pranked anyone in a while so it was long overdue as I scoped out my options. A quick scan proved that Niall, Liam, and Zayn were all sound asleep. Niall even rolled over mid-snore and cuddled further into his pillow. They were the perfect targets. I couldn't contain the devious smirk on my face as I quickly checked the last bunk. 

It was empty. 

There was no curly haired, dimple faced lad swathed in his sheets. It took a second for that to sink in, but then my mind suddenly went into panic mode and forgot all about my prank. Harry never woke up early. I'd even been awake for a while and hadn't heard him get up. Haz had heavy footsteps especially when he was tired, which he would be if he got up this early. I should have heard him. 

_Shit. Harry!_

I was already going through my mental list of places to check on the tour bus - bathroom, by the fridge, the table up front, the sitting area - and considering whether I should wake up the other boys to help me look if I couldn't find him. That's when I walked toward the front of the bus and immediately spotted the familiar curly head of hair. _Harry._

I only experienced a moment of relief before I was frozen in my tracks. 

Many of the windows still had their curtains closed, but a couple of them were open enough to let in some beams of sunlight. Harry sat in the furthest corner of the room, leaning on his arm, his forehead curls just barely brushing the glass pane of the one window with its curtains pushed completely back. The early morning light streamed across his face and made him glow, his eyes looking that much lighter, his entirety looking that much more heavenly bathed in gentle sunbeams. 

He hadn't noticed me as his eyes were focused on the changing view outside. Trees seemed to fly by and caused occasional shadows to fall across Harry's face, outlining his features just for a few moments, in a different but no less amazing way, as the bus drove down the road. He was completely absorbed in his own thoughts and watching the landscape change. I could see his eyes constantly shifting their focus, trying to take in all the beautiful scenery at once, but my own eyes stayed on him, the arguably more remarkable sight in front of me. 

It wasn't fair really, how heartbreakingly beautiful Harry was already and now he looked even more unreal, like he belonged up in the clouds he was staring at rather than here on earth. I hated how my breath caught in my throat and my heart seemed to race at the sight of him. I hated even more how I knew these weren't entirely reactions of relief from finding him. But what I hated most was how long it was taking me to make my presence known...because I knew I'd have to stop staring at my bandmate the second I did it. 

I realized a long time ago that Harry was someone I would never get tired of looking at. It had always been that way. I was just too oblivious to it until other people began to notice the way I looked at him and pointed it out. Well, until other people _except Harry_ began to notice. You'd think he would have been the first to realize it. It was only later on that it made sense to me how Harry could be as oblivious as I was to my lingering looks. The truth was, Harry always got lingering looks. Not just from me, but from millions of fangirls - and boys - and this wasn't a new development if Gemma Styles' comment about Harry having "always been a ladies' man" was to be believed. It wasn't hard to believe. Harry had been attractive and charming long before our X-Factor days. He was used to being looked at that way. It was normal for him, so my stares were just one drop in the ocean. 

Maybe he thought that was how most people looked at him normally. Maybe he thought it was strange when people _didn't_ stare at him, not because of arrogance or narcissism, but because that's just how it had always been. Either way, I'm a little thankful for the fact that Harry was oblivious from the very beginning. If he hadn't been, I might have given him the wrong idea about me or made him uncomfortable and we might not have ended up as best friends and flatmates. Still, it was a constant struggle not to stare at Harry. Even if he didn't mind or notice, I had to practice getting a hold of it, if not for my sanity then for all the crazy rumors and looks that would get sent our way if I didn't. 

So I indulged myself for a few more moments while I had the opportunity to stare in private, without anyone around who would take notice or condemn, including Harry. In the next second, I tucked away this memory of him - all beautiful and radiant in the early morning sunlight as he gazed out the tour bus window - into a safe little corner of my mind. And that was okay. I had come to terms with it. Harry was just one of those people who drew everyone else's attention like metal to a magnet, whether that attention was admiration, pining, or even envy. I just happened to be on the more captivated, admiring end of that attention spectrum. 

Finished with tucking this moment away into my mind, I stepped toward an oblivious Harry still staring out the window. I smirked when he finally took notice of me a few steps later, watching me approach out of the corner of his eye without turning his head. 

"Whatcha doing up so early, Curly?" I almost grimaced as the unintentional rhyme looped back through my head, but Harry just laughed at me - as if I'd done it on purpose to be funny. He turned to face me and look at me properly as he spoke. 

"Don't know. I just couldn't sleep anymore." I hummed in response and stood there in silence, looking out the same window with him. At least, I thought we were looking out the same window until I realized Harry's eyes were watching me now. My face turned back to his. My mouth curved up into a smirk and an eyebrow arched up when I met his gaze, as if to ask him what he was looking at. Harry smiled, not embarrassed in the least that I caught him watching me. Sometimes I wondered if he ever had to hold himself back from looking at me for too long too. He patted the seat next to him, an obvious invitation to intrude on what had been his "alone time." I had no problem with accepting it. 

We sat there for a while, looking out the window together and talking about nothing in particular. I smiled as Harry started some long winded, slow monologue about the pretty trees. Of course, not exactly in those words. No, he _definitely_ used much more masculine descriptions like he always did. He slapped my chest and went into a fit of laughter with me when I pointed it out. Then he continued through the giggles anyway and kept going even after we stopped laughing entirely. His deep, slow voice filled up the whole bus as he pointed at different sights through the window. I couldn't remember the last time we did something like this, or the last time we were allowed to. It was nice. 

Apparently, we were both more tired than we'd thought because we fell asleep. I don't know when it happened, but I must have drifted off sometime during Harry's little monologue and I guess he followed me into dream land a bit later. By the time I started to come back to consciousness, the sun was higher in the sky and we were curled up together, my head tucked into Hazza's shoulder and his head resting on top of mine. Harry groaned above me still half asleep and dazed as I heard muffled giggling from the other lads and the telltale clicks of phone cameras with flash. Niall's laugh was obnoxiously loud when we finally woke up to the sight of doodle marks from pens used on our faces. They ran off still laughing as I chased them down in my newly acquired monocle and handle bar moustache. 

Harry and I spent the next half hour trying to wash all the stubborn ink off. The lads tweeted about their victory and I laughed swearing I'd get my revenge. I'd never admit it, but I was actually laughing at the fact that Harry didn't seem all that bothered with his spots, whiskers, and darkened in nose. He even meowed despite himself and I had to hold myself back from going into a complete laughing fit. Niall noticed and grinned at me over his phone as Zayn and Liam congratulated each other on some of their handiwork. The five of us watched as Twitter exploded for the rest of the day with comments and likes on sneaky pictures the lads had taken of us. 

_I should have pranked them when I had the chance..._


	3. Being naive

I wanted to kill the interviewer. 

I really, seriously wanted to kill her. Okay...maybe not kill. Just maim. Or ruin. Humiliate. Kick. Maybe duct-tape her mouth shut, if I had duct-tape (because stapling it shut might be taking it too far). I wanted to do anything really that would stop this right now, make it disappear, but no matter what I did, that wasn't going to happen. Unless I had a time machine. Which I didn't. I wish I did.

"But I'm pretty sure I've seen pictures of you and Harry kissing," she said, while handing us some glossy shit magazine full of rumors, lies, and over exaggerated _everything_. It was ridiculous. Absolutely, completely ridiculous. Worst of all, Harry actually scanned the images in his shock as if there was even the tiniest possibility that it was us. We would have had to actually kiss for there to be any real pictures of us sucking face. Harry should know where his lips have been and they definitely haven't been locking with mine. 

The lads knew how I felt about this topic so Liam helpfully stepped in by saying, as he had quite a few times before, that photos like these where photoshopped. Thank the heavens for Liam. I took that time to prepare what I was about to say and struggled again with trying to somehow be both polite _and_ snarky. 

There was nothing wrong with being gay and I didn't blame anyone for having opinions and fantasies about me and Harry, but this whole thing was starting to get on my nerves. It should never have gotten this far, but it did because there was nothing to confirm and I wasn't allowed to deny it either. I knew how I was expected to answer. I had a lot of practice being clever with words from all the media training and talks with management, but it still felt like taking a walk through a figurative mine field every time I had to address these rumors. One little screw-up and I'd be in big trouble. 

"Larry Stylinson is a conspiracy made up about me and Harry. You know, there are always stubborn and...very dedicated...people out there who will believe whatever they want to believe. Some of them believe me and Harry are in a secret relationship and nothing either of us says will convince them otherwise. So that's that and as for these lovely photos, like Liam here has kindly pointed out, they are photoshopped." 

The lady gave an awkward laugh as I stared her down after my answer. Management was probably glaring back at me for my less than perfect behavior and tone, but I didn't really care right now. In fact, the smile grew on my face when the interviewer suddenly decided to move on to another topic rather than ask Harry for his own statement. I didn't need to look at him to know he was relieved. 

Hazza was great at charming people, but he was a bit more hit-and-miss when it came to phrasing his answers in a way management would like. After a while, management just told him to keep quiet and let me and the other lads do the talking whenever tricky questions came up. That is of course, unless he was in a situation where he _had_ to answer and one of us couldn't step in or deflect it. He wound up in the hot seat just like us whenever he was asked something directly or the question only concerned himself. The problem with that was some people were starting to notice Harry's silence at those points and began thinking there was something to cover up. We were just trying to keep Haz from saying something that could be taken the wrong way, like that "spitting" thing he'd mentioned more than once... 

"All right, thank you boys for being here today. It was great meeting you."

Just like that, the interview was over and not even a second later, someone from management approached me and gestured for me to follow him into the hall away from everyone else. His face was severe and disapproving. Great.

"Here to scold me? Fine, get it over with." 

He sighed at me in the hall and put a hand on my shoulder, his eyes suddenly much softer than they had been a moment ago. "Louis, you know you can't do things like that." The level of kindness in his voice was a surprise, but I wasn't feeling very charitable at the moment to listen.

"I did what I was told to do. I didn't actually confirm or deny the rumors."

"It's not what you said, it's the way you said it." 

My eyes rolled in annoyance. "You sound like such a pissy little teenager right now." 

"And you're acting like one," he spat out. His eyes had hardened again as he began to remind me of why I wasn't allowed to say whatever I wanted. "You have an image to uphold, and not only that, but the whole point of your career is to have as many fans and followers as possible. That is what determines your success, remember that. And that means-"

"And that means I have to lie through my teeth."

"It's not lying through your teeth. We hardly ever advise you to lie about anything. Nothing you said in that interview was a lie. It's just rewording things and letting the audience fill in the blanks, whether they're correct or not." 

"Doesn't matter, it might as well be lying."

"Are you telling me you'd rather share every little piece of information you have? When interviewers ask you questions about your private life and family, don't you hold stuff back or give fewer details? It's the same thing here." 

I knew what he was saying, but I didn't agree with it. After all, the things I'd kept secret when I was asked about my private life were by my choice. Things I'd rather not share were supposed to be determined by _me_ so this wasn't the same situation. I _wanted_ people to know how I really felt about Harry. I just wasn't allowed to say anything. 

"I know you don't like it, but addressing the rumors about you and Harry is dangerous. The easiest thing would be to say you have no romantic interest in each other whatsoever, but the Larry Stylinson part of your fandom is huge. For all we know, there are fans purely following you two just because of these rumors. Of course, you're not in a romantic relationship. So we weren't going to have you confirm you're dating because that would be a lie and all the anti-gay audience might be lost. Either way, denying or confirming the rumors would result in a loss of fans and has the potential to hurt your career." 

"So we stick with the plan of confusing the shit out of them on stage and Twitter. How long are we going to keep that up for? As long as we're both in One Direction? What kind of plan is that? You should give the fans more credit. They wouldn't abandon following 1D just because I tell them there's nothing romantic going on between me and Harry."

"We'll keep it up for as long as we need. Better safe than sorry, even if it means we have to put extra work into monitoring what gets out there about you two. And as for your fans, you're the one who said I sounded like a pissy teenager just a moment ago. You'd do well to remember many of your fans _are_ at that age, if not younger." 

For once, I had nothing left to say. It wouldn't make a difference here or change the truth. A lot of our fans really were still young. The man who'd been talking once again reminded me to watch the way I said things in the future. I nodded without a word. 

It took me a minute to rejoin the other boys outside. They could tell by my silence and the look on my face that I didn't want to talk. Each of them reached out and patted my shoulder in support as we climbed into the car. Harry couldn't seem to stop watching me, his eyes assessing whether I was okay. I would have reassured him, but I couldn't stop thinking about what the man had said as we were driven back to our hotel. 

I didn't want to believe the guy. He couldn't possibly be right. I wanted to believe I could trust the fans with what I wanted to tell them, but I hadn't been in this business as long as the people in management. 

Maybe I was naïve to think opening my mouth about me and Harry wouldn't come with some big consequences. 


	4. What's going on?

From the very beginning, Harry and I knew each other really well. 

It was something that onlookers often found either endearing or downright odd. We didn't know each other in the way that you know your best friend's birthday or your parents' names. When I first met Harry, I obviously didn't know things like his name, age, birthday, or any of those little facts and tidbits about his life that anyone who was good friends with him would actually know. In that factual regard, we didn't know each other at all (there was no way we could know each other like that of course, unless we were both psychic)...but we _knew_ each other. 

We knew each other in a way most people didn't or couldn't. Anyone could be given a list of all the events and facts of someone's life and then claim to "know them." You could strike up a conversation with a stranger and know them that way in about five minutes; know them through facts anyone else could know and remember just by asking questions like "who are you?" and "where are you from?" That wasn't the way I knew Harry or he knew me. 

I don't know why, but from the moment I met Harry, all it took was one little glance at him for me to recognize when he was nervous, when something was bothering him, when he needed someone to support him but didn't know how to ask. I didn't understand it, but I saw everything as if it was built into me to know these things about Harry. I knew when he needed me to make him laugh and when he needed me to just be serious for a minute, when to talk his ear off to distract him and when to sit there in silence beside him just to let him know I was there. I somehow picked up on the subtlest changes in his expression and the way he carried himself with his posture as if it was nothing, as if it was instinctual, as if his moods and needs were stamped onto his forehead in neon paint, as if I'd known him for years rather than seconds. And he knew me the same way. 

We had some deep level of mutual understanding that shouldn't be there. The only way people could normally attain that level was through spending years of time together. Literally spending years getting used to all the mannerisms and expressions of a single person by going through many different experiences together. Seeing how that person acted in each of those situations. Yet, I somehow knew Harry this way without having to go through any of that. 

It might have been less crazy if I was good at reading people to begin with, but I still struggled with understanding my sisters like this sometimes, even after growing up with them. Don't even get me started on trying to read people who aren't family or good friends. 

For the most part, my connections with people were forged by making educated guesses from experience or taking shots in the dark about how I should approach them. With Harry, there was never any guesswork. I didn't have to wonder whether I should be blunt, reserved, over the top, or whatever. I always knew what Harry needed me to be. It made being with Harry easy and safe. Comfortable. Being with Harry felt like being at home, sometimes even more than _actually_ being at home. 

What's more, I knew Harry even better now. Not just in the instinctual way that has always been there and has been getting stronger, but in the factual way too now that we've been best mates for years. What kind of shitty friend would I be if I didn't know things like Harry's name and birthday by this point? Anyway, like I said, I knew Harry really well. 

That's why I also knew something was going on that Hazza hadn't been telling me. 

At first it was subtle, little hints that hardly anyone else seemed to pick up on. He kept patting at his phone pocket and doing these restless gestures like tapping his foot or fingers. Harry was mellow and...slow. Sometimes he'd sit still for minutes on end, hardly moving at all. He might as well be a statue when that happens. All his gestures used to be from when he was in conversation, talking with his hands, moving with his words, not this kind of repetitive tapping stuff going on. He never did that. 

The worst development was how he would often lock himself in his room when he was home - instead of spend almost every minute with me like he used to so we could make up for lost time. Of course, no one else noticed that last one since they didn't live with him like I did.

I thought I was looking too into things. Maybe Harry just wanted a little more privacy recently, but it still stung a little whenever he went into his room. Then it got worse and people began to notice. He got even more fidgety than usual at questions about our private life during interviews, sneaked out on his own and got home late, zoned out for long periods of time, and often was so deep in thought that he didn't respond to his name being called. That last one was so bad that it even took _me_ a few tries sometimes to get his attention. Hazza used to respond to me all the time, right away; like he had just been waiting for me to call his name. When he didn't seem to do that as much, people who were close to him started to notice the difference. 

Everyone would ask me what was going on and I didn't know what to tell them. Harry was one of those people who wasn't bothered by much, but when he was he would let you know in the most casual way. It was just one of his many talents when it came to his charm. He couldn't possibly be keeping quiet because it wasn't a big deal; if it was something small then it wouldn't have affected him this much. The fact that he hadn't mentioned anything had us assuming that it was something he wasn't ready to share. So most people avoided asking Harry and went straight to me. They figured if he told anyone what was going on, the odds were that I would be that person. The questions were all the same.

_What's wrong with Harry?_

_Is he all right?_

_Is something going on?_

_Did he tell you anything?_

I tried to answer them honestly in the beginning, but when my answers to three of those were "I don't know" and the last one just a big fat "no," people began to worry even more. The last thing we needed was a bunch of fans and paparazzi asking about this if Harry wasn't ready to address it so I tried to minimize the speculation by giving cheeky, indirect, and non-serious answers after that. Thankfully, it was somewhat kept under wraps for now. But it still bothered me that Harry hadn't told me anything, which was stupid because I didn't even know if there was actually something to tell. 

Harry had brushed off my questions and concern with a teasing little smile the first time I asked, but that was a while ago. It had gotten worse since then so maybe I should ask him one more ti- there was a hand on my shoulder.

"Hey Lou, I think you should know something." 

Judging by the seriousness in his face and what he said, I was pretty sure this would be the part where he came clean about whatever he'd been hiding. Harry must have seen the realization on my own face because he nodded his head at me, smiling just a little. 

"Dear, sweet Hazza, do you mean to say you're _finally_ going to let me in on the big bad secret of why you've been acting like a mildly crazy person?" 

Harry smiled wider, showing off his dimples and shaking his head. "Heeeyy, I haven't been acting like a crazy person. I've been acting like a completely normal person, who's just distracted, and for perfectly good reasons. " 

I poked at a dimple in his cheek and scoffed before heading over to the sofa where we could finish this conversation. "Say whatever you want Harold, but you've never been a completely normal person." 

Harry followed behind me laughing and sat so close he was nearly pressed to my side. Then he decided to scoot back a bit so he could face me on the cushions instead. His eyes looked wary and uncertain, but he was still smiling so this news couldn't be that bad. I leaned in conspiratorially and Harry just giggled and shoved me back before turning serious again. 

"So...I don't know how to tell you, but um...I met someone." He met someone? Well, that could mean anything really. It could have been a celebrity, someone he was excited to meet and still got star struck by. Maybe it was someone in the music industry for business who would impact one of our careers either as a band or with Harry as a solo artist. It could be any of that and more. But deep down, I knew what he was saying. I just needed to hear it. 

"Her name's Leah." 

And that's when it became perfectly clear. 

"You mean you're dating someone." My voice came out all flat and Harry looked concerned. I knew this wasn't bad. It was just unexpected. 

"Well...yeah. She's my girlfriend." 

The fact that Harry had just called someone his girlfriend made me dizzy and left me feeling hollow, but then the part of me that knew him so well caught up to my senses. It was in the way he'd said _girlfriend_ , almost reverently, the sparkle in his slightly unfocused eyes, as if he was zoning out again, and to top it all off, that little smile on his face that was just enough to show off those famous indentations in his cheeks. He really liked her, this Leah. He might as well be radiating his happiness at me like the fucking sun lights up the sky. Hazza was happy and also looking at me strangely. 

"Uhh...Lou, you all right?" He looked a little scared. I must have freaked him out a little when my expression went from confused to blank and then this growing dumb-ass grin in a matter of seconds. It probably didn't help things when I snorted at his ridiculous question. 

"Of course not Haz, I'm _ecstatic_! You're dating someone and you just called her your girlfriend. How could you ever think I'd just be 'all right'?" 

Harry gave me the look that was so commonly used between us, the "you're-such-an-idiotic-weirdo-and-I-can't-believe-it" look, and the laugh that goes with it of course. You can't forget the laugh. I love the laugh. 

"It's not really that big of a deal," he said, obviously a lie, "It's been killing me to keep it a secret. I would've told you and the boys sooner, but I wanted to see how it would go first. Plus, I didn't want Leah to be added to my list of conquests by the media from the get go..." 

I could hear the slight frustration in his voice when he brought that up. It wasn't fair to Harry that the media advertised him as some kind of womanizer. He flirted a lot and he had probably been with quite a few people, but the actual number was nowhere near the one that article published a while back. Four hundred and ten girls in one year? Please, there were only three hundred and sixty five days of the year to begin with. Harry would have had to sleep with more than one girl a night for almost one hundred nights for that to work. None of us had that kind of time or even the privacy while we were on the road. Being in One Direction kept us busy. 

"Is she bothered by that?" No one really wanted to be just another point on the scoreboard, girls especially. 

"Yeah, a little at first, but she's smart. She did the math." He chuckled at the end before continuing, "I'm glad she didn't believe the media. Just a little worried what the press will say once they know about her though. With any luck, she'll be as strong as Eleanor." 

I smiled at that. My girlfriend had to deal with constant scrutiny and harassment from some immature people. Some even went so far as to threaten her, but she was still with me. She handled the pressure and stress with a lot more grace than most people would. It still made me angry to think about some of the hate she got. I didn't expect everyone to like her of course, especially since they didn't know her, but they should at least respect her as a person. 

"Mmm, so when do we get to meet her? Does anyone else know?"

"My mum knows, but I haven't told the other boys yet. I'll tell them soon and then maybe after some more time, we'll consider making an official announcement. Whenever she's ready. I don't want to make her uncomfortable. So keep your mouth shut, Lou." 

"Whaaat? Meee? _Of course_ , I will! No need to worry." He rolled his eyes at my idiocy and joking tone. As if he even needed to clarify that I had to keep this a secret. Just to be sure though, I turned serious for a moment. "Your secret's safe with me, Haz." 

"Thanks, Lou." Then the moment was over and his gaze turned wary at the look in my eyes and the quirk of my lips. I've been told a few times that this particular expression of mine is a rare mix of looking amused and predatory. I started dragging out my words, all sickly sweet and overly dramatic. 

"Although, you _have_ been lying to me for however long you've been with this girl."

"Leah. We've only been official for a couple months and I haven't been lyin-"

"That point is moot. I'm so very _hurt_ , Hazza. You'll have to make it up to me." 

"...Dinner?" 

"Well, now that you've mentioned that, yes." I grinned and he cut me off with a groan. "Shhh, let me finish! You'll also have to make it up to me by telling me about her." 

"Erm...what?" 

My eyes gleamed at his confusion and shock. "I said, tell me about her." 

I laughed at the sudden flush in his cheeks when he asked me what I wanted to know and I said "everything." I was mostly kidding, but Harry answered me anyway, though a bit hesitantly at first. 

His voice was soft and slow, almost shy. It took him a minute to snap out of his default setting of not knowing what to say, to realize it was me and he didn't have to worry about the way he talked to me. I wasn't some journalist looking for a scoop, a host on some TV show prying for more details about him, and I certainly wasn't a huge sea of people with a thousand eyes and ears focused on everything he did or said.

Eventually, his guard came completely down as he talked about Leah with her matching green eyes, and long dark hair that looked black until she went into the sunlight and you could suddenly see how brown it really was. How she barely reached his shoulder in height, but had a huge personality and presence that made up for it. How dainty she looked, but how she could kick his ass in a minute anyway if she wanted to, because of the martial arts training her parents put her through when she was younger. How she never got star struck around him because of how down to earth she was. How he loved when she laughed because it ranged from tiny little giggles to a laugh so loud and happy that it even rivaled Niall's.

The more he talked about her, the more it sunk in that he really liked her. The more he talked about her, the more he had to say. So I sat there, listening for the first half and zoning out after that, but still smiling and happy to wait until he got it all out of his system. 

It was only when he heard my stomach growl that he realized he'd been rambling and finally stopped to make dinner. 


	5. A night with the lads

"Yes, yes...No _...NO, **AWW COME ON!**_ " Zayn leaned into me to avoid hands flailing out in frustration on his other side. I was trying to keep a straight face, but Niall's accent always got ridiculously thick whenever he was worked up. It was like he was becoming more and more Irish right in front of our eyes and it was hilarious.

"I think you're getting _way_ too invested in this game, mate."

Niall didn't even spare me a glance, his glare directed at the screen in concentration as he grumbled to himself. I could've sworn I'd heard him say "piss off" though and it only made the rest of us snicker. It wasn't long before the match was over and Niall tossed his controller to Zayn in a semi-violent fit at his loss. Zayn somehow managed to catch the controller with grace and patted at Ny's shoulder in comfort. It was amazing how fast Niall lost all his steam and started sulking like a kicked puppy. Liam tried to be soothing, but you could see he was beside himself with his victory. He started setting up another match with his controller and Niall bounced back quickly like he always did about these things. I shook my head in disbelief as he moved to sit on the sofa behind Liam and watched the game screen with interest. He looked like one of those meerkats standing at attention on its hind legs.

"Hey Harry, it's your turn. Which player do you want?" Liam called out.

I frowned as Harry's voice floated down the hallway saying to give his turn to me. Liam looked confused, but handed me the controller anyway. This was our first gaming night in a while. We'd been too busy with other things to have one, but now that all the lads were here in our flat to play, Harry had excused himself a little more than halfway through it. I was hoping he was about to rejoin us when he stepped into the living room again a moment later, but one look at him and I knew he wasn't going to. 

"You changed your clothes." 

The other lads did a double take as if they hadn't noticed the difference in his outfit. Maybe they hadn't. After all, it was pretty much the same color as his other clothes. These were just a bit less casual. Harry looked sheepish at my statement, almost guilty. I went back to staring at the screen and going through the character selections. It was obvious that he was leaving. Again.

"Yeah, I'm uhh...heading out." 

"Where are you going? It's _gaming night_!" Niall's eyes were all wide and incredulous.

"He's off to see the missus, I imagine." Harry had told the lads about Leah a couple weeks ago, but it was still relatively new to them. They forgot sometimes that he actually had a girlfriend now and one of us had to remind them. I was still focused on the gaming screen, but I could see Harry watching me in my peripheral vision. 

"Sorry, Lou. Maybe I'll catch up with you guys later when I get back." 

There was a chorus of all right's and see you later's, but I just nodded at him. I heard the front door open and then close again as Harry left a minute later. It was as if his exit had been a mute button because the room had gone silent except for the game music. My eyes stayed glued to the screen. I had finally decided on which character I wanted, but my finger wouldn't move to hit the confirm button. 

Then I felt hands over mine as someone gently pried the controller out of my grip. I didn't stop staring at the screen until Liam got up and shut off the gaming system. The screen went dark and the music had stopped to leave the room in complete silence. That's when I turned my head and saw everyone watching me. Zayn still had my controller in one hand, his other numb on my waist with his arm wrapped around me. Everyone was frozen for a minute just looking at me until Niall sighed and stood up from his spot on the sofa. 

"Well, I think it's time to break out the beer." 

He headed to the kitchen and came back juggling four bottles rather than glasses in his arms, handing one to each of us before starting to gulp down his own. 

The lads sat close beside me in an awkward somewhat triangular formation, as if they had planned it. They didn't ask me about Harry. I guess they didn't have to. We just sat there drinking beer and talking about anything and everything else. Zayn and Liam mostly stayed quiet and solemn until Niall said or did something strange to break their faces out into smiles and laughs. At one point in the night he came back from the kitchen with a huge mixing bowl over his head, juggling more beers and bumping into walls. He could have just been drunk off his ass, but I think he was working extra hard to make sure I was distracted and laughing. It worked sometimes.

Niall kept bringing out more bottles as we finished them off. Liam told him he was done for the night so he could drive them all home later and Zayn too stopped soon after, but Niall still brought out more drinks if only for the two of us. I was hammered by the time the lads finally got into the discussion of whether or not they should stay here with me rather than go home. I appreciated the thought, but I insisted they leave. I was so drunk I'd probably fall asleep soon enough anyway.

It took some convincing, but they eventually decided to go home. They gave me a three way group hug in goodbye, the three of us besides Liam so shaky and drunk that we almost fell to the floor. Zayn was mostly okay, but still a little wobbly and attempting to hold up Niall who swayed with every step he took on the way out. Liam held the front door open for them like the sensible lad he is and pulled on Zayn's arm when it looked like they were about to fall over. They were good lads, all three of them, and Niall and Zayn would be fine with Liam looking out for them. 

I managed to stumble back to my bedroom in the dark, shedding all my clothes on the way because it was too hot and it was more comfortable to sleep commando anyway. My head was delightfully buzzing, all slow and cottony. I knew I'd have a major hangover the next day, but I couldn't bring myself to care all that much. I was still free tomorrow though so I'd be able to sleep it off. I sighed as the back of my head hit the pillow. 

I thought the buzz from all the beer I drank would have made me pass out on my bed right away, but even with the lingering static in my head, I couldn't stop thinking about Harry. Maybe the alcohol was wearing off a little. Either way, I didn't fall asleep the moment I hit the mattress. I didn't even fall asleep hours after I laid there waiting for it. The lads and the alcohol had distracted me for a while, but they couldn't distract me forever. Bless the boys for trying to help though. 

All the buzz was wearing off now and the more I thought about it, the more I didn't understand. I was happy for Harry, of course I was, but he shouldn't have left tonight. He shouldn't have left all those other nights either. Or have come home so late. He should be here with me.  
I thought he'd want to be here with me. 

He said he might catch up with us when he got back later. It was later and the boys have all gone, but maybe I could still wait for him. I couldn't sleep anyway for some reason so I might as well wait. I cuddled into my pillow and considered getting up to put on some pants for the inevitability of when the front door opened. I figured Haz could deal with it though if I was under the sheets or maybe I'd get dressed once I heard him walking down the hall instead. I decided I'd figure it out when he got here. It was late already so he shouldn't be that long. I'd just wait for him. I'd wait.

He didn't come home that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this story (and I think even in real life since they live in Britain and the rules are different there), all the One Direction boys are of legal drinking age.
> 
> I do not promote underage drinking.
> 
> Please if you do decide to drink, whether you're underage or not, drink responsibly and have a designated driver.


	6. Comfort and lost focus

I kept getting distracted lately.

My focus was practically nonexistent these days and it hadn't been that great to begin with. It was impossible to try to hide my sudden...flatness, for lack of a better word. My jokes were half-hearted. I didn't play any pranks, laughs and smiles took too much effort, and I just felt empty. This rut I'd been stuck in had lasted for weeks and it was only getting worse. I just couldn't be bothered with anything. I hated it, but I didn't know why this was happening. I was so out of it that it took four tries for Eleanor to get my attention and I didn't even catch what she'd said.

"Sorry, what?" 

She frowned at me and I tried not to notice the concern in her eyes. I wondered whether that look was in response to my lack of attention or the fake smile I had pasted on my face for her. My smile fell apart as soon as I realized she didn't buy it one bit. Eleanor sighed and tugged me over to sit down at a nearby table. 

I blinked in surprise at the number of paparazzi and security around us, voices shouting at us from every which way as we had gone out for a walk. I often struggled with ignoring all the flashes from cameras and the usually obnoxious voices asking personal questions I didn't want to answer, but this time I had somehow managed to block them out entirely. My sudden realization that there were so many people around us right now was unsettling. I hadn't noticed them at all. A gentle hand cupped the side of my face to get me to focus. _Eleanor._

"Louis, what's going on with you? You haven't been yourself in ages." I winced at her serious words. She was whispering, but I still didn't feel comfortable talking like this in public. Despite blocking them out earlier, I was now far too aware of how much paparazzi was around us trying to pick up on anything and everything we said. I forced myself to focus and look into my girlfriend's concerned eyes. I didn't even know how to answer her, but I knew I didn't want to answer her here. My voice came out small, but insistent. 

"I know...can we just, please talk about this somewhere private?" 

Eleanor stared at me for a minute and considered the paparazzi around us before nodding and gripping tighter at my hand in hers. "All right, your house is closer. Let's go." 

Bodies, both paparazzi and security, swarmed around us, caging us in. I held Eleanor more tightly to my side, wrapping an arm around her waist when our hands were almost yanked apart by the push of the crowd. It was nerve-wracking to be walking through this sea of people, but I couldn't help feeling some relief amid the chaos around us. My mind felt clearer than it had been for days as I was forced to channel all my focus on getting home rather than trying to make sense of how depressing I had become. 

When we finally made it back to the safety of my flat, the temporary relief from my swirling thoughts evaporated and left me feeling empty all over again. I barely registered the fact that Eleanor had pulled me over to the couch so we could sit down and finish our conversation. I still had no idea what to say. 

We sat there in silence for a while, my girlfriend watching me intently and probably waiting for me to speak, react, or just do something - anything. I couldn't even seem to look at her. In fact, I had an itch to look around the entire flat instead. My eyes quickly scanned the whole room until Eleanor called me out on it, my gaze fell to my hands at the sound of her voice. 

"Looking for Harry, aren't you?" 

It didn't even sound like a question. She knew.

"Is it because you don't want him to hear us talking?" 

I evaded the question. "He doesn't know what's going on with me either." The truth would have been too much work to explain; the fact that I didn't want him here while we talked, but also that I just wanted him here with me. Eleanor was clever though and she noticed how I didn't really answer her. She sighed again and rubbed her thumb over my knuckles, trying to comfort me.

"Lou, come on. Talk to me," she said gently before kissing my cheek and nuzzling my neck, "Tell me what's wrong, love." She had let go of my hand in favor of wrapping me up in her arms instead. Her embrace usually had me melting in an instant, but this time it took me much longer than it should have to relax into her arms. I'm pretty sure she noticed. I kissed the top of her head and ran a hand through her wavy hair in apology as I tried to gather my thoughts. I sighed in dejection, which I seemed to be doing a lot of lately, when I couldn't figure out what to say.

"I don't know what's wrong, El. I don't understand any of it...I just feel empty." 

She hummed thoughtfully against my neck and pulled away just enough to look into my eyes. Her expression was more serious than I had seen in a long time, maybe the most serious it's ever been. "It's about him then. He's the only one who can get you this out of it and sad. Even I know that." 

Now that she said it, I knew she was right. And I knew exactly which _him_ she was talking about. It always came down to Harry and I always tried to deny it, because it was almost guaranteed to be a stupid reason to be sad over something. It was almost guaranteed to be a stupid reason that nobody else would understand, because nobody else could ever seem to grasp exactly how much Harry meant to me. Even worse was the fact that I could never voice these stupid reasons because of how everyone else always seemed to take them. It was something I heard about almost every day and would probably continue to hear about for years to come- _Larry Stylinson_. It was exactly why I'd learned to keep these things to myself, so much that I had apparently gone into complete denial without realizing it. 

"He's been dating someone new for a while." I kept quiet at her tentative prying, really not wanting to talk to my girlfriend about the person I've been constantly rumored to be in a gay relationship with. She continued to stare at me before speaking again, this time in a much smaller voice that made my chest and throat tighten in guilt. "Is...is that what's been bothering you?"

I wanted to be angry with her, shout "of course not" and point out how many times we've been over this, how many times I've told her I love her, but the way she asked me that question just made me feel worse. Eleanor was a lot like me, confident, loud, cheeky, and it was something I loved about her. Hearing her voice this small and...vulnerable...left a hole in my chest.

I pulled her into my lap and hugged her tight, her body lightly trembling against mine. My voice came out strong, steady and sure as I whispered into her hair. "You know I love you, El. _I love you._ So please just let me try and explain." She nodded against me and whispered an okay. I pulled back, pushing strands of hair out of her face and making sure our eyes met. She had my full attention the second I heard the uncertainty in her voice. I never wanted to hear that from her again. Now I realized I had to say something to try and get her to understand, however difficult it might be for me to explain.

"It's not that Harry's dating someone, love. That's not the problem, not really. It's everything else that's been happening _because_ he's dating someone."

"I don't understand. What's the difference?" 

I sighed, struggling to figure out the best way to explain this to her. "It could've been something else that causes the same things bothering me. It could have been a new hobby, a new friend, or even a big argument with me. Either way, the results might have been the same." I looked around the room again, gathering my thoughts and trying to put them into words. 

"He's not here, not as much as he used to be. We can't hang out or joke around in public the way we used to because of everything. The only time we can be ourselves is when we're away from the cameras, away from everyone else...when we're home." My arms tightened around Eleanor's middle as I stared at the floor and she waited for me to continue.

"I'm happy that he's happy, that he's with someone he likes. But I miss him. We didn't get to spend enough time together before because we had to keep up a certain image. We _still_ have to keep up that image and now with him dating, he's around even less. And soon it'll be none at all."

"What are you talking about? You still see him here even if it's less than you'd like to. Just because Harry is dating someone doesn't mean things between you will change so much that you'll hardly ever see him." She was trying to help, but it didn't work. She didn't understand that everything was already changing. I sniffed and my traitor eyes started to tear. I tried to turn my face away so Eleanor wouldn't notice, but she turned my face back to hers. "Louis, everything is going to be oka-"

"He talked about moving out."

El had gone silent, stone still in my lap as she realized the gravity of what I had just said. Her face fell when she finally took in my expression. I knew exactly what she was seeing - sad and shiny eyes, shiny because of brimming tears just barely kept at bay, a tired forehead crease, a crestfallen frown, and just an overall broken and empty look on a familiar face she had hardly ever seen as anything but happy.

"Louis..." 

She wrapped her arms around me and I held her tightly, burying my face into her hair and neck, leaving her scent to tickle into my nose. I was sure it must have been a struggle for her to breathe through the strength of my hold, but she didn't complain. She only held me tighter, combing a hand through my hair and stroking up and down my back as she continually whispered words of comfort into my ear like they were her new mantra. 

So there I sat on my couch, my girlfriend in my lap, just the two of us together embracing in an empty flat as I tried to drown myself in the comfort of Eleanor. She pulled back just enough to run gentle thumbs across the bottom of my closed eyes, wiping away the tiny bits of moisture that had managed to escape, before cradling my face into her hands. My eyes stayed closed, but I felt her lips on my skin dropping kisses to my forehead, eyelids, cheeks, nose, and finally my lips. Her thumbs ran under my eyelids again as she pressed her forehead to mine.

I could feel her breathe against me, her chest brushing my body with each inhale and her breaths meeting my own between us with each exhale. It was like she was waiting for me to open my eyes and look at her, but I couldn't. My hands fell to her hips and held her tight, her hands combed through my hair again, her fingers curving around the backs of my ears before sliding down to cup my jaw and neck. I still couldn't bring myself to look at her. She didn't force me to. She just sat there in the silence with me instead. 

It was times like these when I felt like I didn't deserve her. I really didn't deserve her because she was still here, patient and comforting, even when she didn't quite understand why I was the mess I was right now. She didn't demand more answers or force me to look at her, but just sat with me as I had a near break down over someone else. Part of me should have felt relieved at telling someone what I had been keeping to myself, but I actually felt worse than before. I was wrapped up in the arms of this beautiful girl I loved, who was unselfishly doing everything she could to make me feel better...and all my mind could seem to focus on was how much I wanted that curly haired, dimple faced, green eyed boy to walk through the door and make the flat feel less empty. 

Because without him, this flat would always feel empty to me.


	7. Nightmares

It was the middle of the night when my bedroom door creaked open.

I wasn't a very light sleeper so I shouldn't have heard the heavy foot steps or felt the bed dip under me with extra weight. I shouldn't have noticed the extra body heat next to me or felt the little breaths by my ear. I should have been oblivious to these things while I was in dream land, but I had only started to drift off to sleep when this night visitor came into my room. It could only be one person.

I rolled over on my side for a second so I could reach out for him. His body fell into me instantly and he let out a content sigh as I wrapped my arms around him. Curly hair tickled my nose as he shifted to make himself comfortable against me before going still. Harry would have just lied next to me for hours if I had been asleep. It didn't matter that I would probably sleep through him wrapping himself around me, Harry was always reluctant to risk waking me up by snuggling into me.

"Sorry I woke you up."

"I wasn't really asleep yet. Almost, but not quite."

He hummed and cuddled into my side, his head tucked under my chin and his body curled into a little ball so I could hold him just like I used to do years ago when he didn't tower over me in height. He pressed tired mumbles into my neck, the vibrations light and lazy against my skin as I toyed with his messy curls. "I couldn't go back to sleep." 

"You had a nightmare then. What was it about?" 

He shivered and pressed closer to me. Maybe I shouldn't have asked him to relive it by telling me about it. The silence stretched on, but he spoke just before I was about to tell him he didn't have to answer. 

"The same one, Lou. It's always the same one."

Well, then it was the one he'd had that first night too, back when we had first moved in together. It had also been the middle of the night that time when it happened. He'd been so disturbed that he ran naked straight into my room and jumped into my bed, couldn't be bothered with putting on boxers. It was the fastest I'd ever seen him move. 

I remembered waking up to his loud and heavy footsteps as he rushed to my side, crying and hyperventilating, having what I could only assume was a panic attack. He had wrapped his arms around me the first chance he got and refused to let go for even a moment so I could go put on some pants. Of all those other days it could have happened, he had to come to me on a night when I hadn't been too lazy to remove my underwear and decided to sleep commando. Yeah, I'd seen Harry naked before and he'd seen me once or twice too by then, but he had never clung to me like that with barely a thin sheet there to separate us when it happened. If I hadn't been so focused on getting Harry to calm and breathe normally again then I might have been extremely awkward. 

It had been a struggle to understand what he was saying through his gasping breaths and sniffles. He had been in hysterics. I don't think anyone else could've possibly understood what he had been saying except maybe his mum if she were there. After a little while though, I managed to put together that he'd had some horrible nightmare I just happened to star in that night. And that sort of explained why he had been adamant about holding onto me in a death grip for a while afterwards. 

It hadn't been our first time sharing a bed, but it was definitely memorable. Since then, Harry would come sleep in my room and cuddle to my side every time he had one of those nightmares and sometimes even when he just wanted company. We never talked about it the next morning and once in a while, I'd go to his room too. We must have had hundreds of nights together by now, but none of Harry's nightmare visits had ever been as horrible as that first one. I hoped they never would be again. 

"You're not going to lose me, Harry. I promise you.  
I'd never let that happen, okay?" 

"Okay...I know you wouldn't, but if it's something you don't have control over or..."

"You should know better than to question my stubbornness." 

I could feel Harry smile against my shoulder, just the tiniest trace of a laugh leaving his mouth. "Well, you _are_ very stubborn." It wasn't quite the reaction I was hoping for, but it was close enough. 

"That's right. You have nothing to worry about."

Harry stayed quiet, his breathing slowing down and deepening. Soon he'd be asleep beside me in this bed. On my bed. In my room. He came here because he'd had a nightmare, but, in a way, I was glad it happened. It had been too long since we slept in the same bed. Just another thing I had been missing since Harry went out on most nights he was free and came home late or not at all. I missed the days when us sharing a bed was more of a norm than a rare occurrence. 

I wondered if Harry missed nights like this too. If he felt as ridiculously attached to me as I felt to him. There was part of me that instantly denied it saying if he felt the same way then he wouldn't be out so much and leave me. But I knew it wasn't true. Harry wasn't like me. He'd always been a bit more of a loner. Sure, he loved having company and he had charm in spades to make all the friends he wanted, but he always craved some time for himself more than most people. That's why he went out so much even before Leah came along. That's why he was out even more now. 

Harry wasn't one to get so attached to people or become obsessive and yet he stayed with me. He knew me better than anyone and watched out for me. He lived with me, moved in with me when we were still just teenagers, when we hadn't even known each other for that long. He'd been my flatmate for years and actually enjoyed doing all the housework and cooking that I was complete shit at myself. And he never once complained. 

It was true that Harry didn't really get attached to people, but maybe I was his exception.

If nothing else, the way he'd clung to me that night when he'd had his first nightmare should be proof enough. Harry had gone into hysterics because he dreamt of losing me. He didn't want to lose me. He never wanted to lose me. 

I wondered then how he dreamed of us getting separated, if it was different each time it happened. He never told me the details. I wasn't sure if I really wanted to know. Surely, the details didn't matter as much as the idea of losing me. I couldn't imagine having a nightmare like that. It must be hell to dream of losing Harry. To dream of losing him in any way. I tried to imagine it and was suddenly hit with how much it hurt. I had expected it to hurt of course, but not that much. Even the few times I'd had nightmares of losing El hadn't been _that_ horrible.  
And that's when I realized...

It wasn't the same thing. 

Losing Eleanor would _hurt_ so much, I was sure I'd be horribly depressed for ages, but I also knew I could deal with it if I had to. I could still imagine myself having a life without Eleanor, however miserable that imagined life might be for a long time. But if I were to lose Harry...my life would end. My imagination couldn't come up with any picture of carrying on without him. There were no visions of depression or mourning, just emptiness. Nothingness. I wouldn't be living at all, in fact the best I could hope for was existence. 

Without Eleanor, I would have a miserable future, but without Harry, I would have no future at all.  
That thought terrified me. I couldn't lose Harry either.

Harry started shifting again having noticed my sudden stiffness and lack of breathing as these devil thoughts ran through my head. He whispered in concern asking if I was okay, his voice already husky and close to my ear. My spine tingled right on cue, but I ignored it in favor of tightening my arms around the boy pressed to my side and patting his head in reassurance. 

"I'm fine. Go back to sleep, love." 

I was only all too aware of the last person I'd said that to. He said something back that he hadn't said in a while, somehow making it seem both alien and yet so achingly familiar. I didn't even have to think about my response. 

"Okay...Night, Lou. Love you." 

"Love you too, Haz. Good night."

My last thought before I fell back asleep was that Eleanor couldn't possibly be that annoyed with me even if she knew about tonight. I wasn't planning on telling her and she'd probably understand anyway if I did. I think. So she really couldn't be that annoyed with me.

I mean, after all, we were both wearing pants this time. 


	8. This is the truth

It had been a while since we had a good interview day. When there weren't any awkward personal questions, shameless flirting from female presenters while we were on-air, or figurative minefields full of controversial topics and rumors we had to respond to. 

This was _not_ a good interview day. 

The male host wasn't flirting with us that's for sure, but the interview was bad nonetheless for other reasons. The worst part was that it was live and our screw-ups would remain screw-ups no matter what we did. No pressure or anything. 

"So how many of you are single?" Niall and Liam were the only ones to raise their hands. Typical question, but an exceptionally common one, especially with the recent announcement Harry had made a while back. The host's smile was cheeky, almost like a smirk as he gestured toward Hazza. 

"Ahh, that's right because Harry, you've been dating this new girl for a while now haven't you? What's her name again?" 

"Umm, yeah. Her name's Leah." 

A picture taken by some paparazzi came up on the host's side screen depicting the "new happy couple." Leah managed to look poised in the picture for the most part until you got a good look at her eyes, all wide and clearly overwhelmed. At least the live audience on this interview show was polite with their applause and cheers. Poor Leah had already started getting hate and threats online from some people for being Harry's girlfriend. She was a nice girl and I wasn't sure how the lads and I would have reacted if we heard any boos. 

"Twitter and other social media sites have blown up with this news. It's even been trending, hashtag _Learry_. I mean, it's insane! How are you and the missus dealing with all this?" 

Harry droned out some response that didn't register to me, probably something about focusing on making Leah as comfortable as possible. It was obvious that he was wary about where this was going to go. We could tell the host wasn't done, if the slight glint in his eyes was any indication. 

"And how do you deal with some of the critics and a few of the more _vocal_ fans of yours that obsessively ship Larry or whole-heartedly believe you're gay? Because some of the other hashtags and comments that have come up about this are things like _'Learry is Larry without the e'_ and _'Eleanor welcomes Leah to the beard club'_ or even _'Learry's ship name should be Hah like the way we're laughing at the joke it is.'_ How do you respond to things like that?"

That crossed the line. 

Harry's eyes went dark with anger and I'm sure mine did too. Everyone seemed to freeze, including the audience, and the host didn't even look sorry. What a dick. 

"That wasn't cool, bro." Zayn had to speak up first. You know it's bad when Zayn, the quiet one, speaks up first. Sat between me and Harry on the sofa, he discreetly tried to squeeze my shoulder in warning. His grip was strong, restraining even, as if he was afraid I was about to do something. He had reason to be afraid of that. All I could see was red, and I had to remind myself to calm down before I did something live that I might regret. Management must not have known what the host was planning. I could see a couple of them having a heated argument off set and calling over some of the technical crew in the corner of my eye. They would never have allowed these questions even if the interview was pre-recorded. 

"I didn't mean it that way," the host argued, "I'm just saying the people want to know what you boys have to say, so come on Harry, is your relationship for real? Are you in fact gay? What is the _real_ truth here?"

My body started shaking and Zayn's grip on me tightened. No, I couldn't afford to do this here, but my anger was like a savage monster that wouldn't listen to rationality. My hands fisted over the material on my knees. Dammit, I couldn't stop. This was going to happen and my mind was screaming at me to at least figure out what the hell I was going to say before I blew up. I only had one shot. 

Screw this guy. Screw management. Screw all of this crap.  
It was time to trust the fans.

My mouth opened and there was no holding back. The blood rushing behind my ears tuned everything else out, made me deaf to the world except for my own voice. I was probably cutting someone off, interrupting them with my rant. I couldn't care less. In fact, I hoped it was the host. 

I stormed off set afterwards and didn't even know what I'd said. All I remember was the look on the host's face, all wide eyes and surprise looking for all the world like he'd just been attacked. 

I probably ruined everything so I didn't even look at the lads before I left. I just ran straight out of the building, security swarming over me and getting me to a cab at my demand. I went home and stayed there, barely keeping myself from punching at the walls. It wouldn't do any good, would probably just break my hand. I found the next best thing and grabbed a bunch of blank scratch paper and note pads around the flat to tear to shreds. I ended up with a hundred stinging paper cuts and an extremely messy floor full of paper scraps when I finally calmed down, but it was better than having a broken bone. 

No one came to bother me for the rest of the day. 

It was only later that night, when I worked up the nerve to go online and see the damage I'd done, that I found out what exactly I had said. There were already some hazy video recordings on YouTube with thousands of views each. Even with the mediocre video quality, you could see the anger on my face and the fire in my eyes at the host's questions. How Niall had looked like a deer caught in headlights when it happened. How Liam had done the same thing with Harry beside him that Zayn had done with me, holding him back. How the host suddenly leaned back in his seat as I ignored Zayn's hold, jumped up from my spot on the sofa as if it had burned me, and opened my mouth, my voice dangerously full of rage and yet crystal clear as I sped through my rant. 

_"You want the truth? Fine, shut up and listen. Harry is very special to me, always has been and always will be. We've been through a lot together. We've even lived together. He's one of my best mates and I love him to bits. And yes, I admit that he is a very attractive lad. I can see that, pretty much_ everyone _can see that, but I'm not attracted to him. Maybe if things were different, if we were both gay or if one of us was a girl, then_ 'Larry' _would be real. But that's not how things are. Harry's dating Leah. He's happy with her and I'm happy for them. The truth is I have an amazing, wonderful, beautiful girlfriend and I love her._ I love Eleanor. _So to everyone who's sending her and Leah hate just sod off and leave us alone!"_

The other lads were in shock, frozen on the sofa behind me, all except for Liam who stood frozen on his feet, having jumped up too late to try and stop me, his hand still gripping at Harry's shoulder to keep him in place. The audience and set were deathly quiet as I pointed an almost threatening finger in the host's face.

_"And that goes for people like_ you _too,"_ I snapped, _"There's your scoop. I'm done."_

And I walked off the set. 

I saw how the host stayed frozen in his chair and the crowd began to buzz. How management suddenly started shouting over the noise saying to cut the feed and go to commercial even though it was already too late. How Hazza had come to life again, and started to follow after me before some of our minders tried to hold him back. The set was suddenly filled with a dozen standing bodies, blocking the view of my retreating back as I made my exit.

The video cut off just as the lads stepped in to help Harry and began arguing with management, voices overlapping into an indecipherable explosion of noise. The scene was complete chaos. 

And I was the one who caused it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just two more chapters after this and then a couple of optional epilogue like chapters. 
> 
> We're in the final stretch! :D


	9. Moving out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains a very wise Niall. :)

_*_ Flashback _*_

_"Lou, I've been meaning to ask you something."_

_"Hmm, what is it?"_

_"Did you ever think about living with Eleanor?"_

_"Not really, I guess I didn't give it much thought. I already live with you."_

_"I know...I just figured that maybe you'd want to. Live with her, I mean."_

_"Haz, is this some weird way of you telling me you don't want to live together anymore?"_

_"No, Lou. I love living with you. I was just thinking that even though it's great, we can't do it forever._  
_You and El have been serious for a long time and Leah and I've been talking about moving in together one day too._  
_I thought maybe you two might have had that conversation already and I wanted to let you know it's okay to consider it._  
_I don't want to be the one holding you back."_

_"You're not holding me back, mate...But I guess I see what you're saying. I'll think about it.  
Do you think you want to live with Leah?"_

_"Yeah, not now, but soon maybe... Soon.  
I don't want to leave you, but maybe it's time to start thinking about it."_

_***_

That conversation felt like it was only yesterday, not a few months ago. It had been news to me. They hadn't even been together for that long when Harry mentioned it so I was surprised. Then again, maybe I shouldn't have been. Harry hadn't known me for long either when he said he wanted to move in with me. He'd known me for even less time actually, when he started considering it and decided it was a good idea. 

I considered living in the same flat by myself for a while or having Eleanor stay with me here, but I decided against it. This flat would always be mine and Harry's flat. It wouldn't be right to live here without him, let alone live here with someone else as if I was replacing him. Even if that someone else was Eleanor, that would never be okay. 

So today was moving day, not just for Harry, but for me too. 

Our flat was pretty empty by now, most of our things gone and packed up in separate boxes. It wouldn't be our flat for much longer. We had slowly sorted things out and moved some boxes to our new homes whenever we could. It was a slow process, but it felt easier than to move out all at once so we took the time to ease ourselves into it. Packing a few boxes, moving them out, packing some more, then moving _those_ out, and repeating that over and over.

It was strange to stay in the flat with Harry these past few days with most of our things gone and removed. Our beds were gone by this point so we brought over mattresses, still wanting to stay together until the move was finalized. I'll never forget that one night the mattresses went untouched. How Harry and I decided to swamp the bare living room floor in a mountain of blankets, sheets, covers, pillows, cushions, and any other comfortable cloth material we had left to form a makeshift nest we could cuddle into instead. 

It was ridiculous how easy it was for me to remember how it felt to be cuddled into Hazza's side or how his breathing tickled my skin every time and comforted me with its calm rhythm. It was so easy to remember how he trailed a teasing hand down my spine when he noticed that stupid shiver I always got at his deep and raspy voice no matter how hard I tried to hide it, how his laugh reverberated through my body since we were pressed together when I slapped his hand away. 

It wouldn't be like that again for a while, if ever at all, once he moved. Harry and I would say our goodbyes later this afternoon when he took his last box of stuff with him. The move would be finalized. 

"It's okay to miss him you know," Niall said through a mouthful of crisps. I had offered for him to come by and raid the nearly empty pantry before I left today because I didn't feel like bringing all the packaged food with me. Niall couldn't pass up the opportunity. 

I looked over at him sitting cross-legged like a kid on the living room floor next to me. It was hard to concentrate on what he said. All my brain kept repeating to me was how empty the flat was now and all the memories I had here. "He hasn't even left yet, Niall. And I'll still see him around. It's not like one of us is leaving 1D."

"Yeah, but you won't be living together anymore. It's kind of a big deal." 

Niall wiped the crumbs from his mouth as I hummed in response. I didn't really know what he expected me to say.

"I'm just saying it's okay to miss him. I get it. After all, you guys are like, soulmates." 

_Wait, what?_ He said that like it was no big deal, like there was no doubt in his mind about it. It was the way a normal person would point out that the sky was blue or that the weather sucked balls that day and it threw me for a loop.

"We're not gay, mate. We don't like each other like that."

Niall looked offended. "I didn't say you are or that you like each other. Besides, that doesn't matter. It doesn't make what I said any less true." 

"But you called me and Haz soulmates..."

"I had a friend at school once who kept going on and on about soulmates. I told her I didn't believe in that because I've never seen it happen in real life. Sure, people fall in love and stuff, but it's not the same thing you know?" 

Niall looked thoughtful, his eyes a little clouded over in concentrated memory as he continued. "She said I had the wrong idea, that it was a common mistake people make about it. Two people being in love doesn't make them soulmates. The actual definition doesn't say soulmates have to have romantic feelings for each other. She talked to me for _forever_ about how she thought soulmates, real soulmates, were people who just match from the very beginning. Who know each other so well it's almost effortless. They just 'click' and everyone can see it. It's so rare that most people never will experience it or see it, but when you do it's amazing. No one can ever replace your soulmate. They'll always be important to you. They'll always be a part of you." 

It sounded pretty cheesy to me, a creation of some teenage girl's fantasy. I didn't want to admit for a second that it's what Harry and I are. Bandmates? Sure. Former flat mates? Yes, after today. Best mates? Of course. But soulmates? 

A little corner of my mind specifically dedicated to Hazza tingled with recognition. All those memories and feelings that had been so confusing, loving Harry yet not _being in love_ with Harry. Loving him in a way so different from Eleanor, my family, and the other lads. Loving him in a way that was just for him. The way I had let him into my life without a second thought because it was like he was meant to be there. How he'd gained my trust so easily and instantly became a huge part of my life and world from the moment we met.  
Because I knew him without knowing him, and because he knew me the same way. _Holy shit._

"Harry's my soulmate." Niall laughed at the wonder and surprise in my voice as my mind suddenly clicked. It was as if he'd knocked me flat on my back and I'd just realized it. 

"That's what I've been saying, mate. If you could convince me within minutes that soulmates exist just by being with Harry, when my friend couldn't even do that after years of talking my ear off and trying to prove me wrong, then it must be fucking true." 

Well, shit. I must be stupid then. It still sounded cheesy to me, but it was easy to accept it. I understood it better now. It was as if a huge weight was lifted off my chest, a weight I hadn't even known was there. Harry was my soulmate and that made so much sense it was crazy. It explained everything. Niall opened the last bag of crisps.

"You really are crazy, Ny."

He munched on his snacks, his mouth full again. "More like wise. It's from the crisps."

  


______________________________________________________________________________

  


There was a knock at the door soon after Niall left. I wondered if he might have forgotten something while hauling out the rest of the packaged food I gave him, but instead I opened the door to someone with bright green eyes and a little smile on a face devoid of dimples. I smiled at the person in the entryway.

"Hey, love." 

Leah grinned easily back at me, some of her hair all brown in the sunlight with strands a little messy and curled at the edges, clutching some bag in her hands like it was something precious. It was strange to see her without Harry around. "Hey, Louis. I hope you don't mind my coming by." 

"Not at all, I just thought you and Harry were coming by later."

"We are, but I wanted to give you a house warming gift."

I smirked at that. "Couldn't wait 'til later?"

Her teeth gleamed white in a wide smile as if she had been so close to laughing instead. "Not exactly. I wanted to give it to you without Harry seeing it. Thought it might be a bit less awkward that way." 

I didn't get it. Leah knew I was confused if the look on her face when she saw mine was anything to go by. She didn't say anything else though, just handed me the unmarked bag she'd been cradling in her hands. I wasn't sure if I should open it now, but then I noticed Leah was still watching me, waiting for my reaction to her gift.

I reached my hand into the bag and felt the edge of something. It was relatively heavy and rectangular. When I pulled it out I realized it was a picture frame, one of those fairly boring yet quite common gifts. I assumed it was empty until I turned it over and saw the picture already framed inside. My eyes went wide and my breath caught. Why would she give me this? Where did she even get it?

Leah started rambling at the look on my face.

"I took it on one of the first days I came over to see you guys. Everyone else was in the middle of the living room talking, eating, playing games...and I noticed the two of you in the corner. You guys looked happy and I don't really know why I took the picture, but I did. I just thought you might want to have it. I'm no professional photographer, but it came out great anyway, don't you think?"

I had trouble seeing that person as myself. Harry was on the left leaning against the wall too, his long shirt sleeves shoved up his crossed arms. His left hand held on to his own bicep, the anchor tatoo on his left wrist just peeking out from under a shiny wristwatch he liked to wear. I didn't remember this moment. It hadn't been significant at the time, not really, but how could I not have realized that my eyes were gleaming like that back then when I looked at him? Maybe it was just a trick of the light or the effect of alcohol. It could be a mix of both. More likely, having your soulmate next to you just made you look fucked.

"Yeah...um, thanks. Not a very conventional house warming present. Why are you giving me this?"

"Because I know you're going to miss him."

"..." Why did everyone keep saying that? I didn't need any reminders. 

Leah didn't let the silence that followed become awkward. "He's going to miss you too though so I bet you'll see him around more than you think. He'll be coming over to yours so much that you'll be sick of him."

That could never happen, but I wouldn't mind him trying. "Nah, Harry's not really the type of person you get sick of." 

I looked back down at the picture in my hands. I couldn't put it up on the wall by itself, that would be weird. It'd be even weirder to put it on my nightstand especially when it'd be next to a bed I was planning to share with Eleanor. Maybe I could make it blend in if I found enough pictures to frame and put up all together on a wall at the house. Because the idea of walking into my living room to a thousand eyes from my relatives and friends on my wall sounded awesome...yeah. I didn't know where it was going to go, but I'd find a place for it. It was too nice of a picture _and gift_ to throw out or tuck away into some drawer. I put the frame gingerly back into the bag to stop myself from staring at it.

"Anyway, thanks. Take care of him for me won't you?"

"I'll do my best, but I could never take care of him as well as you have." 

I snorted in laughter. "Well, that's a first. I think you've got it the wrong way around, babe. Harry was about one step away from being an honorary housewife." 

Leah laughed with me, but shook her head. "No, you've helped him more than you think. You know, he always talks about you."

I looked away when she gave me a knowing smile. Leah was too perceptive sometimes, too understanding. She wrapped me up in a hug and gave me a small kiss on my cheek even though I was going to see her again in a few hours. I almost mumbled my goodbye and she started walking away. She suddenly turned back to look at me though before I closed the door.

"Oh, thanks by the way."

"For what?"

"The interview. People talk and the media posts things. It was all over the news. I hope you didn't get into too much trouble for it, for saying what you did." 

I _did_ get in trouble. I was lectured about my behavior from some people in management and the PR team for acting a little too much like a diva. Even then I could see the other half of the team give me discreet smiles and thumbs ups as if they were proud. So yeah I got in some trouble, but it could have been worse. 

Fans and viewers had mixed reactions about it. Some of them thought I handled the interview poorly and shouldn't have done it, while others supported what I said, argued that it was the truth and took bravery for me to say it. I liked those other people. They all deserved a thousand hugs, to be squeezed in thanks within an inch of their lives. Too bad really that I didn't have a million arms for that. 

There were haters and there were supporters just like always, but overall I didn't really care too much. I stood up for El, Harry, and Leah. I finally stood up for myself. I said what I needed to and didn't regret it.

More and more people began to realize it hadn't been scripted, hadn't been some stunt to cause drama and get attention, some lie made up by management. There were debates online and the majority of people believed it was real, said they could hear the sincerity in my voice, see it in my eyes and on my face. The rift between the infamous Elounor shippers and Larry shippers hadn't been completely bridged, but for now there seemed to be a little peace. More than anything, most of our fans just wanted us to be happy after all. 

Elounor shippers were happy that I stood up for my relationship with El and put the Larry rumors to rest. Larry shippers respected my choice once I finally gave them a definitive answer about what I felt for Harry, no more of that avoiding the question crap. And most of them were happy too to know that, even if Larry wasn't what they expected and hoped for, Harry was clearly very special and very important to me. I admitted I loved him on live TV even if it wasn't quite the confession they wanted and they took comfort in the fact that Harry obviously wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. I wouldn't let him get too far. 

"It was worth it."


	10. We were going to be okay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Had a bit of a difficult time writing out this chapter. 
> 
> I just couldn't seem to find the right words for what I had in mind, but I hope you like it anyway.

We were free. It took a while for me to realize it, to look past all the recently uploaded YouTube videos, dramatic media articles, management meetings, and internet debates about what I said when I stormed out of that interview. Eventually though, I saw it for what it was. Freedom.

Management didn't have anything to cover-up about Haz and I anymore. The fans, and the rest of the world who bothered to care, knew exactly what I said about it. Some of them might not be able to understand my deep and confusing feelings for Haz, but they could at least understand the part where I said I wasn't attracted to him, that Harry was really dating Leah, and that I loved Eleanor. I didn't use my media training, use tricky wording, or give them a vague answer. I told them the truth and there was no way in hell that management could cover that up now. Sure, they lectured me about my behavior, but I think they're secretly relieved. There wasn't too much damage to our careers and now they don't have to go through all that ridiculous effort to make both Larry and Elounor seem possible.

Harry had rarely been allowed to sit next to me in interviews or stay by my side. He couldn't whisper to me on stage and had to resort to making one of the other lads be the messenger or using his mic. He couldn't be photographed with me when we were on our own. He couldn't join me on vacation, just the two of us, or even go out in public with me without the other boys around. He and I couldn't do a lot of things without getting a lecture for it later. But now we could.

It was a slip-up just like any other time, some tiny affectionate gesture or statement when one of us inevitably forgot for a moment that we were supposed to keep our interactions in check. I had pulled a distracted Harry to my side and fixed the hem of his shirt before nudging his attention back to facing the camera. I glanced at someone off-camera for a reaction when I realized my mistake. 

No one lectured us.

We didn't know what to think about it, but we weren't about to ask why. And then it happened again and again. Still no lectures. Harry and I started to think of it as a game, see how far we could push it without getting told off. It went so far that we became known as a couple of the gayest straight guys the world's ever seen. We finally realized management didn't really care what we did anymore when there was no consequence for Harry playing with my braces on stage one day. He had looked like a little boy with a new play thing, tugging on my braces every which way throughout the show, his face breaking out into a much less innocent expression when he pulled my braces so far back that they snapped back to me. Cheeky bastard. The audience got a kick out of it and that's when I knew for sure that we were free.

So now it might not be a big deal for people that Harry came over to my new flat unannounced and knocked on my door just a week or so after living apart, but it was a big deal to me. I hadn't expected to have him come over so soon, even if we lived relatively nearby.

I saw him through the peephole and did a double take. He was staring straight at me through the glass and smirking as if he knew my eyes were on him. I opened the door wide a second later and he immediately walked into the living room passing me frozen in my spot. He kept walking and looked around the room, as if he lived here or owned it yet never saw what it looked like inside.

"Hey, Boo bear," he said over his shoulder, just looking back to throw me a brief smile and making some weird gesture with his arm. The rarely used nickname threw me for a loop and my mind was too focused on trying to figure out why Harry was here to make sense of his weird arm movement.

"What?" He laughed at my confusion. He walked back over and pulled at the arm I had been leaning on before he slammed something shut. Oh, yeah.

"Close the door or bugs will come in," he reminded me.

"Yeah, yeah. I got it, Curly," I said as he started walking back toward the center of the living room, "Now explain to me what you're doing here?"

He mumbled something that sounded like "need help." I've always been fascinated by Harry's deep voice, but sometimes it was impossible to understand him.

"You need help with what?"

"No, _you_ need help." He picked something up from the nearby kitchen's marble countertop that obviously wasn't mine. I hadn't even noticed that he'd put it down when he came in. It was some kind of oddly shaped bottle-thing decorated with bright colors. Ugh, detergent. "Where's your laundry room?"

"Harry, I don't need help." Of course Harry would realize I'd put off laundry for as long as I could once he left, about a week, he was such a housewife. Haz ignored me, probably knowing I would insist I didn't need him to help me with laundry. He walked deeper into the flat, his back turned to me, and therefore wasn't able to appreciate my eye-roll and amused smile. He knew me well enough to imagine it.

"Wouldn't want you or El drowning in soap and your clothes to come out in a bunch of different colors than they were when they went in."

"There's nothing wrong with tie-dye." Half of my clothes were oddly colored anyway.

Harry turned to me, half exasperated, half amused, and completely stubborn. "Lou, where's your laundry room?" Damn him and his stupid talent for sounding both commanding yet gentle at the same time. It was just one of many reasons why I had a hard time denying Harry anything for long. He eventually wore me down.

By the time I escorted him to the new laundry machines I have yet to touch, he had already started talking in his slow, winding monologue voice offset by the happiness and near excitement in his green eyes. His eagerness just to do laundry with me was the only bearable thing about this whole situation.

"Right, so first things first you need to separate your clothes." Harry started sorting through the laundry that had made it into the hamper. Old habits die hard and even with El around, I had a difficult time remembering that other people didn't appreciate having clothes lying about randomly on the floor.

"I know, by colors and whites."

"Yeah, but also by what the tags say. Whether it can be washed or not, should be hand washed, the temperature and water pressure settings, whether you can use bleach..." Everything else just started fading into the background, going in one ear and out the other. My god, who knew that doing laundry could be so complicated?

"What, you're joking right? You can't just throw them all in?"

"No. The tags tell you how to wash, dry, and sometimes even iron your stuff." Harry barely spared a glance at me, looking through the clothes and occasionally reading through those annoying little tags that irritate your skin. He'd obviously memorized the tags he skipped over. I couldn't believe he knew some of them by heart, no matter how many times he'd done the laundry. Now I had another reason to cut those tags off. I should've done it already, at least before today.

"Haz, I'm pretty sure the cloth tags were just put there by some wanker who wanted a good laugh and found out how he could annoy billions of people all over the world at once. Being a few degrees off in temperature and using the wrong water pressure isn't going to make much of a difference here."

Harry shook his head and laughed at me, still continuing with this lesson on laundry that I was never going to learn. My head was swimming with disbelief at every new rule that came out of his mouth as if it was nothing. Apparently, sorting things by color was one of the most basic and simple things you could do and both washing and drying each had their own set of rules. Not to mention things like ironing and whether to hang the clothes up or fold them once you were done. I hoped El was good at laundry because at this rate, I think I'd rather just throw all my old clothes out and buy new ones. I could donate them to a hundred charities...

Harry handed me the oddly shaped bottle he'd brought in. All of its bright colors seemed to be mocking me right now. He unscrewed the cap of it with one hand and pointed at an almost invisible little measuring line inside. "You're going to need about that much detergent."

It didn't take me long to see that Harry was a monster at doing laundry. I wondered if he got it from Anne or if he just read through a tag that had been bothering him one day and realized there was actually something written on it. It was funny how concentrated and at ease Harry looked while loading the machines up and changing the settings. He didn't move particularly fast through all of it, but I'm sure I slowed his process down by a lot. Not that he minded. He humored me with my sarcastic comments and questions that I didn't bother learning the answers to.

We spent time between cycles and laundry talk by talking in general. We even sat on the living room sofa once, watching some drama show on TV we started off making fun of before getting so ridiculously into it that we almost missed the timer Harry had insisted on setting for the laundry. The final load was done a few hours later and Harry helped me put it away. He smirked when he saw my half of the dresser was stuffed haphazardly, clothes shoved in without a care about forming possible wrinkles. I laughed at his side filled with clothes stacked relatively neat, folded, and pretty.

Harry was leaving now, had to be home for dinner with Leah, and told me to give his best to Eleanor once she got home too. He wrapped me up in a hug goodbye, warm and so tight that it was just shy of suffocating. We only did laundry, but today was one of the best days I've had in a while. It was as if nothing had changed, when everything had. Everything except Harry and I.

"Maybe I'll screw up my laundry every week so you have to come over and fix it."

Harry chuckled by my ear. "I'll have to teach Eleanor next time then if you're going to be useless at it. Besides, I don't plan on only coming over when you have laundry."

"When I'm hungry too?"

He only laughed harder before pulling away from our hug to look me in the face. "Maybe once in a while. I could teach you that too."

"Great, then we'll die in the kitchen fire together."

His breath came out in a huff and he bit his lip to hold back the laughter, his eyes gleaming. He wasn't going to respond to that. He knew how crap I could be at cooking and we could be here all day making jokes about it. "Bye, Lou."

"Bye, Haz." I held the door open for him on his way out. 

______________________________________________________________________________

 

The lights were in my eyes for a minute as they shined down on us. There was Zayn further up on the stage about to sing his high note, Liam and Niall poking at each other while singing up front and center, and Harry on the far left looking across at me and smiling like always. He gave me the thumbs up. We were going to be okay.

There was a dip in the music and in the next second, I was surrounded by all their voices in harmony. I usually found it difficult to hear anything over the screaming audience, but this time the noise faded into the background with ease.

These were my boys. This was our song.  
And I wouldn't trade this moment for anything in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the last one before the optional epilogues. 
> 
> So you can stop here if you want or you can read on to the final two chapters once they're posted. :)


	11. Little stepping stones

Eventually, the band split up. 

It was inevitable and we all knew it was time to move on when it happened. Being in One Direction with the lads was some of the best years of my life and I still miss it. I'm sure I always will, but I have other things that bring happiness to my life now. Things that keep me busy. 

They're a handful, all of them, the kids - little Anna, Jacob, and Leo. El says I'm a natural with them after having six younger sisters and one younger brother, but I disagree. Eleanor is the real natural here. She's an only child yet she's taken to motherhood so easily like she was born for it. I don't know how she does it, but she never ceases to amaze me. 

I don't see the lads too often now that we all have different schedules and jobs (even though we all live relatively close to each other), but we make do. Harry and Leah just had their second child a few months ago and I was there to argue with all the other lads at the kid's homecoming about who got to be the godfather. I argued that since I had been Harry's best man and was already godfather for his daughter Darcy, that the responsibility should fall on me. I won and El chuckled at the smug smile on my face. Then I sat back and watched as the argument fell to who would be the back-up godfather and then the double back-up godfather.

Turned out that Harry's daughter Darcy was thrilled to have a younger brother and watched him with wide childlike eyes all through the day. Anne was there too and she laughed saying it reminded her of Gemma when Harry was born. Gemma pointed out jokingly that she'd been glaring, not adoring, and just waiting for the moment Harry would spit up some baby vomit and start crying. Harry took it all in stride, smiling at his sister and making her roll her eyes and laugh when he said he loved her too.

Then Zayn finally came through the door, ushered in by Leah and only fashionably late thanks to Perrie who had somehow managed to drag him out of the house. She trailed in behind him with their son in tow. If it weren't for her, we would have been waiting for hours for the old Bradford Bad Boy to show up and the kids had been getting impatient. They all ran at their cool Uncle Zayn as soon as they spotted him and Leah teased him good-naturedly about missing another godfather debate as he and Perrie were drowning in hugs, their son standing a bit off to the side afraid of getting swarmed over. 

Zayn and Perrie soon joined our party of adults trying to keep up conversation while we chased after all the little hurricanes of children we had around. They didn't seem to mind in the slightest. They obviously had a kid of their own too, though he was more quiet than the rest, a bit brooding like his father even when he was around friends. Zayn and Perrie may have been married the longest, but they were a bit slow on the uptake. They'd only had one son, still quite young though I was sure Perrie was going to announce that she was pregnant again soon. El was a master at noticing the signs and had pointed it out to me and Leah in confidence a few days ago. I wondered if they broke the news to their boy yet. I could imagine him being all chill about it as if his parents had only commented on all the sunshine lately. 

It was still strange to think about how half of us had kids now. It already seemed like a madhouse with just half a dozen of them to watch even with twice the number of adults in the room. I couldn't imagine what it would be like if we had more and how the other two probably would have some kids of their own soon enough to add to the group. 

Liam had gone through a bunch of tough times with his repeatedly on-again/off-again relationship with Sophia. It wasn't really healthy, but he had a hard time letting people go. He finally cut it off for good and moved on a few years back. He'd been a bit of a mess, but then a woman named Emily came along and picked up the pieces. They were a match made in heaven, those two. She was the mother hen to his father figure like ways. They'd just gotten engaged and were eager to plan the wedding. I've never seen Payno happier. There was no doubt in my mind that they would be amazing parents once they got to that point. 

And then there was Niall, still baby-faced even in his early thirties and still in love with food. He'd surprised us over the years as he'd had trouble with having long-term relationships. He was under the radar for the most part with the press, especially after One Direction split up, but we saw the women he went through trying to find the right one. We had to rescue him from a would-be engagement once when he'd been exceptionally drunk at a party. Zayn even admitted to the rest of us that Niall was dating some guy at one point. Harry, Liam, and I thought he was kidding until Niall confirmed it. That was a real shock, totally unexpected, but it didn't last for long. The relationship hadn't worked out for one reason or another. 

Niall started backtracking after that. Turned out there was a girl from his hometown who he'd been friends with a long time ago. They even had a fling once and somehow ended it on good terms. They met by chance again when he went back home to visit his family and they eventually decided to give whatever relationship they'd had a real shot. They've been together for almost two years now. Their relationship wasn't perfect, but they always managed to work it out. Maybe she would be the future Mrs. Horan and finally relieve Liam of his long-held title. The two of them would have a bunch of cute and baby-faced Irish children, all light eyes and tinkling laughs, and happy go-lucky. They'd be one hugely loveable Irish family and the rest of our younger kids would probably be convinced they're all leprechauns. Leo still blushed every time that word came up. He obviously remembered the day when he looked up at me with innocent and highly curious eyes and asked me why Niall was so tall for a leprechaun. The memory always made me smile and it was just one of many.

Sure, family life was nothing like being in One Direction, but it was amazing nonetheless. I couldn't really ask for more right now. 

I stopped reminiscing and winced when Jacob elbowed me in the stomach as he cuddled deeper into his mother's side. He'd been having nightmares lately and would sneak into me and El's bedroom at night when they got too scary for him to handle alone. Good thing I had a lot of practice with this thanks to Harry. I wrapped an arm around them both, my hand resting on El's back so I could pull her closer and bracket Jacob tighter between us. We had just managed to get somewhat comfortable when our bedroom door opened again to Anna and Leo wanting to join the cuddle once they realized Jacob was gone. So El and I were left to bracket the three of them tightly between us in the middle of the night, just barely managing to keep on the mattress and sighing dramatically at each other across the gap. 

I couldn't really ask for more right now, except maybe a bigger bed and more sleep for all of us than we were likely to get tonight.


	12. So lucky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **A/N: The POV has changed and one of the archive warnings now applies in this last chapter. I'm sure you can guess which one.**   
>  **YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!**

I thought about everyone and everything.

I remembered the days before the X-factor when all I knew was my family - my mum, Robin, Des when he came to visit, and my annoying yet wonderful sister Gemma. Back when my life was completely normal and I worked at a bakery with lovely old ladies who all treated me like I was their grandson. Back when I was still in White Eskimo and I was happy just doing music with a couple of my mates and singing on stage for only a small number of people at a time. It was the days when I was just Harry, not famous, or rich, but normal with normal school friends who liked me for me. 

I remembered my early X-factor days. When my mum was a tad overbearing backstage and I was given a couple kisses for luck before I managed to stumble away. The time the bright lights focused only on me and I met Uncle Simon for the first time as I performed "Isn't She Lovely" filled with nerves. When the judges voted me through and I went to bootcamp all happy and excited before I felt like my dreams were crushed when I was told I didn't make it. And then being called back, standing next to boys I hardly knew back then and being given a second chance as a group. I remembered the joy and relief and a boy I'd only met in the bathrooms once who jumped straight into my arms at the good news. 

I remembered fast becoming friends with those boys, spending time at the bungalow together, sleeping on the giant backyard trampoline in one big dogpile, and having them agree with my idea for the band name One Direction. Then we were moving on to perform at Uncle Simon's house and somehow made it through to the show. We moved into the X Factor house and became friends with some of the other contestants leaving us sad when they lost, but also steadily getting more and more excited and nervous the closer we got to the finals. I remembered making the video diaries and fitting into the comfort of being in a group easily, maybe because I had experience from being in White Eskimo. We slept in bunks, sometimes sharing and sometimes alone as the house got emptier and emptier. We made it to the finals together before coming in third and thinking our dreams were over when it had only been the beginning. 

I remembered our unexpected rise to fame. From going on the X Factor tour, then opening for Big Time Rush way back when, and the fans supporting us all the way until we had concerts of our own. I remembered moving away from my family, living with the crazy bandmate who'd once jumped in my arms. The lads and I obsessed together over the first time we were written about in the papers, were in shock when we realized our first single came out as number one. Then there were more singles, more albums, more awards won, and more records broken. I was in shock every time one of our songs came out as number one, was in disbelief when we were told that we sold millions of copies and were popular in more than 36 countries worldwide. The stages we performed on grew bigger, arenas and stadiums full of our growing fan base who were so loud and amazing that I was sure we would end up going deaf. I could laugh with the unbelievability of it all whenever I saw one of our names or pictures on some lunchbox, t-shirt, or when we made our own perfumes and movies. It was something that only happened to the biggest of celebrities and it wasn't something the lads and I ever got used to.

I remembered the increased pressures of performing, always being in the public eye. The rumors that flew about women I had barely spoken to claiming I had come on to them and of course all the shipping within our little band of five. My family was amazing, most of my old friendships strained yet some surviving even with my rise to celebrity status, irreplaceable crew members like Paul and Lou with her adorable Baby Lux who didn't take us too seriously, and of course the lads who became the brothers I've never had. It was easy to remember how in my darkest days, when I didn't appreciate all the speculation and hate, they were the greatest support network I could ever have. And then meeting Leah filled the last little piece of the puzzle. 

I remembered the various reactions to our announcement of disbanding as One Direction as well as the changes it brought. The media frenzy died down after a while as we moved on with our lives and the lads and I spent more and more time apart. I was free to see my family and finalize wedding plans I'd never seemed to have enough time for in my hectic schedule. Leah and I could start our own family and settle in one place like we'd always wanted to without me living on a tour bus away from her for months at a time. We had time to breathe, relax, laugh at all of our kids' crazy antics whenever the lads and their missuses came by for a joint get-together. 

I remembered all the times I'd wake up in the middle of the night to crying, kiss away booboos and ouchies when my kids proved to be as clumsy as me, how Leah and I took them to school with their backpacks being dragged behind them, put drawings and good school grades up on the fridge, not taken the yelling to heart when their rebellious phases kicked in and when they would come crying to me and their mother's room because they didn't mean the things they said. I remembered trying to help with homework that was beyond me, smiling through their successes and comforting them through their break-ups and failures, watching them leave the house and graduate from college, walking Darcy down the aisle and calming a nervous looking Edward in his tux before the ceremony...just, so many things. 

I remembered all of it and yet I knew there must be more.  
There was too much to remember; too much I'd probably managed to forget.

My last thought was of my family. Not just mum, dad, Robin, and Gemma, but even Uncle Simon and Baby Lux who wasn't even a baby anymore. Not just Leah, Darcy, and Edward, but my grandkids and all the lads' kids and grandkids, some of whom I'd even had the privilege of being the godfather of. And of course, the lads themselves who'd been with me when my life had changed forever, when life's reality became no different from the stuff of fairy tales for us. I was so lucky. So unbelievably lucky. 

To have known Zayn.

To have known Liam.

To have known Niall.

_To have known Louis._

I could let go now. I had been strong long enough and Leah would understand. She'd take care of our family like she always has and she wouldn't blame me. The truth was, I missed my mum and dad. I missed my boys. I missed Louis. He'd been stubborn all right, but he hadn't been stubborn enough when it was his turn to go. It was about time I joined him where ever he was to let him know I forgive him for that. 

**** 

It was the next morning when the announcement came through the televisions of unassuming households all over the world.

_"Breaking news...the world has lost another great talent. Harry Styles, the last remaining member of the famed One Direction boyband, has finally joined the rest of his bandmates and passed away last night at the age of 85. Our hearts go out to his family, friends, and fans at this tragic time..._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please don't kill me. 
> 
> I'm sorry. This is how I had always planned to end this story. R&R?

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first published fan fiction.
> 
> I've dabbled with writing some things on my laptop, but I never thought I'd actually have other people read it. Or have my first fan fiction be about One Direction...
> 
> So if you have taken the time to read this fanfic and these notes, thank you, it means a lot to me.
> 
> I would also appreciate if you gave me some comments, suggestions, and/or constructive criticism, thanks.
> 
> And I said CONSTRUCTIVE criticism. Please, don't flame me. -.-''
> 
> P.S. The arrangement and format of the chapters might change once in a while as I get better at figuring out how to use this site. I'm still new to Archive of Our Own.


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